The captive soul
by Rieval
Summary: John’s POV during a difficult rescue mission. Mckay Sheppard friendship.
1. Chapter 1

**Captive Soul**

Author: _Rieval_

Disclaimer: SGA and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story was created for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.

Rating: GEN/T – some violence, some angst. Season 2, set after Aurora but before The Lost Boys.

Status/Parts: Complete in Six Parts.

**A/N 1**: The paragraphs in italics indicate flashbacks.

**A/N 2**: this story was written in French then **Fenchurch1** translated it in English for me and **LKY** betaed it! _Merci beaucoup Mesdames, vous êtes des anges!_

Description: John's POV during a difficult rescue mission. Mckay Sheppard friendship.

**oOo**

_Il faut vénérer l'Ame qui est faites de la pensée, dont le corps est souffle, la forme lumière, l'être espace._

(We have to venerate the Soul which is made of the thought, whose body is Breath, the form Light, the being Space).

**Hymn**** to âtamn (Shatapatha-Brâhmana: 10.6), Seven Upanishads, Hinduism.**

**oOo**

All of a sudden, I feel as though I'm about to be sick and it isn't just because of the noxious smell that is permeating the huge marquee we're in. It's the combined smells of sweat, animal waste and food.

Oh! And despair.

Three large brutes have just brought a new lot onto the stage. It's a young girl, no more than 13 or 14 years old. The Auctioneer gives his spiel, pointing out her qualities, the initial price is announced, and the bids mount up, then going, going, gone. Lot No 12 is sold.

I take a deep breath to control the feeling of nausea and I feel a hand rest on my shoulder. Teyla smiles at me, I reply with a forced smile.

Down on the stage, the auction continues, No. 13, a young woman and a small boy, a mother and her son, or maybe a brother and her sister, sold, No 14, a young man in his twenties, built like Schwarzenegger, sold, No. 15 … My heart leaps in my chest when I recognise the shape of the man being brought onto the stage. This time, it's Ladon Radim's hand that I feel on my shoulder, a firm hand that prevents me from getting at my P-90, hidden under my tunic, and shooting into the crowd.

"Wait" Ladon said.

And so, I… No, _we_ wait, Teyla, Ronon and me. The Genii goes confidently down the steps and I follow him with my eyes, forcing myself not to look at lot No. 15, because if I do, there will be no hand, gentle or firm, that can stop me from causing a massacre.

Ladon has reached the seller and is talking to him. He looks relaxed, as though he goes to this sort of show all the time, but then, maybe he does?

**Flashback**

_Cowen meets me in his office. There is a table, some files and a lamp, and, of course, no second chair, so I have to stand before him. He's scribbling something down in one of the files__ spread out before him and he ignores me completely. He's making a show of taking his time, then he finally __puts the pen down, rocks a bit in his chair and looks me up and down for a long time, in silence. I say nothing. I allow him to enjoy this moment of victory. The infamous Colonel Sheppard, enemy of the Genii, the assassin responsible for the death of half a squad of the elite of the Genii army and the man who humiliated him__ is standing before him. This man who represents the people whom the Genii, no doubt, hate as much as the Wraith, the people of Earth, those thieves who think they have more right to live in Atlantis than the people of the Pegasus Galaxy – especially the Genii, of course. He's here in front of him, alone and unarmed, at his mercy._

_He's right, of course. I am at his mercy, ready to beg and c__rawl if necessary. Only one thing is important here: to obtain information. The Genii have a system of informers to rival our best government agencies. _

_Cowen__ breaks the silence first._

"_Major Sheppard! So, to what do I owe this visit?"_

_He smiles. Like he doesn't know why I'm here in this bunker that smells of death! A game, that's what all of this is, a game of power with simple rules, the one who has the information is also the one who holds the world in his hands. The Earthling play this game all the time, so why shouldn't the humans of Pegasus? And the Genii would certainly give the CIA a run for their money._

_I smile at him and tell him everything, missing out no details, of the failed mission on Galdor. I don't correct his mistake in my rank. I know he knows, it's all part of the game._

_Then I do exactly what he has been waiting for since the beginning of the meeting. I beg._

**End of the flashback**

Ladon listens to the auctioneer, grimaces, shakes his head and turns back. He's on his way back up the steps, when the man shouts to stop him. More pantomiming then Ladon pretends to think for a moment, feigning indecision, he nods his head and starts to move away again.

I swear under my breath, which gets me a frown from Ronon.

"Patience, Sheppard," he growls. "Radim knows what he's doing."

It's my turn to growl then I turn back to observe all that's going on the stage.

The auctioneer is behaving like a real Ford salesman, trying to snag a good sale: if the customer is hesitating, then get him to try out the merchandise.

The guy leads Ladon to Lot No 15.

I'm not watching. _I'mnotwatchingI'mnotwatchingI'mnotwatching_ I-AM-NOT-WATCHING!!

There's a thingy that looks like a flower… a daisy… just above their heads. I stare at it until my eyes water.

"Sheppard," the Satedan growls again. I force my gaze away from the daisy and look at Ladon instead. He's gesturing for me to come and join him.

That's logical. I'm the buyer, not him. He's just an intermediary. It's my right to check to see if the merchandise is to my taste or not, unless it's just another humiliation that the Genii want to inflict on me. Who knows?

And who cares.

I go down the steps.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you so much everyone! Posting this story in English terrifies me: Fenchurch1 did a wonderful job with it but I'm not sure it works as well as the original version (that you can read here too, to practice your French!), so I can use all the encouragement I can get!

**oOo**

**Flashback**

"_Slavers!" Elizabeth falls back on her chair, bowled over by the news._

_After having bowed to Cowan's little power games and after making a case of C4 disappear from the Deadalus' inventory), the Genii Commander finally consented to tell me what he knows – or rather to lend me aid in a rescue mission._

_Elizabeth puts her hand on her forehead closes her eyes for a moment. There is a full minute of silence. She takes time to compose herself, to get back to her leader face, hiding the side of herself that is devastated for her friend. She nods her head and glances out of the glass doors of her office, at the man standing between two marines._

"_And him?" She demands. _

_I turn around. Ladon is smiling. I want to make that smile disappear. Actually, I would like to make him and all the Genii disappear. I reply to Elizabeth's question._

"_He's going to help us get him back. He knows those…" I stop and think for a moment to search for the best word to describe those slavers – pieces of shits? Scumbags? I opt eventually for something a bit more neutral. "…guys. He will be our agent." That's better. I know Elizabeth. If she senses that I'm on the edge, she'll threaten to send another team._

_And there's no way in Hell that it will happen, not after Galdor. _

**End of flashback**

Ladon introduces me to the merchant. He's a fat guy with a bald head and hands weighed down by shiny colored rings. I wonder if each one represents the price of a sale – the price of a life. He speaks to me, a knowing smile on his face. Ladon must have told him what I intend to use my future possession for. I grind my teeth. Carson's right, at this rate I'm going to need dentures. Some lose hair when they're stressed – me? I lose teeth.

I gesture with my hand for silence and to show my impatience, but it also shows that I really don't care what he thinks. Ladon's right: with this type of guy you have to look disdainful. If you behave in a haughty fashion, they will believe that you must have the right to do so, in their deranged little minds this demonstrates that you must have the _means_. And, actually, I have it, nicely laid out in a casket that Ronon is guarding as if it were a treasure, some rough diamonds, found on PX- _whatever_. Treasure. Ridiculous. Just some bits of glass, nothing like the treasure in front of me: a life, the life of one of my friends.

That's a _real _treasure.

**Flasback**

_There is black smoke rising from the rubble and in the middle, there are bodies. I kneel next to one. It's Yanez, one of the soldiers from the Spanish contingent, no older than 25. Dead. His empty eyes are staring at me. I get up and activate my radio._

"_Lorne?"_

"_Sir?"_

"_I've found the escort." Lorne doesn't ask for more details and I'm glad of that. "Anything new on your side?"_

"_We are in sight of the building, but there's no response on the radio."_

_I close my eyes and sigh._

"_OK, try again and remain in contact. Sheppard Out"_

_Carson is kneeling next to another body, it's Savoya, 22 years old. I feel old. Old and ashamed to be alive. They were all younger than me by about 10 years, under my orders and I did nothing to stop them from dying._

_It was supposed to be an easy mission. The recon team had found an Ancient out-post on this planet, Galdor. The inhabitants had accepted to become our allies in exchange for medical help.__ 'Post apocalyptic' was how McKay had described them. 'Completely harmless' Teyla had replied. Ronon had just grunted._

_And all of this was true. The good people of Galdor had just forgotten to mention that they were regularly attacked by mercenaries, men who pillage and grab anything that may have value. _

_My radio crackles._

"_Major?"_

"_We've found them, sir. Two dead – Dr Zelenka is alive, but I think that we need to…"_

_I cut him off._

"_We're on our way."_

_He hasn't mentioned McKay. I didn't ask the burning question._

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you so, so much for your feedback! It really means a lot to me!

**oOo**

I don't have the choice anymore. I have to play my role to the bitter end: the customer. I force myself to watch, to _really_ watch.

McKay is standing in front of me.

Like the other 'Lots', he's half nude and he's wearing nothing but a light loincloth, tied around his waist and a sort of collar. Just like the others, the most surprising thing is the pallor of his skin. White, almost translucent under the spot lights used to light the stage. You can see the blue veins on his shaved chest.

In this part of the Pegasus Galaxy, white skin and blue eyes are, apparently, a rarity. It would be impossible to be more explicit than Cowan had been on the tastes of the people who live in this quadrant.

"And if my memory serves me correctly, Major," he'd said, his back firmly up against the back of the chair, just like the little tin-pot dictator he is. "Dr McKay fulfills _all_ the prerequisites of beauty."

Since then, I have carried a bullet around in my pocket, a _silver_ bullet, like the one you might use to get rid of demons and other evil creatures. It has the name of _Cowen_ written on it.

"He's a _superb_ specimen, isn't he?"

I nearly start with surprise. The horrible little man is there. I regain my composure and send him a glare which tells him clearly '_how dare you speak to me, you dog?'_ and he shuts up, but his face suddenly shows his glee and before I have a chance to do anything, he grabs McKay, who whines a little. I blink. It's weird to see him so silent. That's when I notice two things, his eyes and his throat.

His eyes are blue. OK, yes, I know he has blue eyes, but his eyes are really _very_ blue. They've put something like kohl on him to show off his eyes, but that's not all. It looks as though his _whole_ eye is blue. His pupils are practically non-existent and reduced to tiny pin-holes. And they aren't moving at all. Drugged. Where's Carson when you need him anyway? As for what I thought was a collar, it turns out to be marks, finger marks. My own fingers tighten their hold on my P-90.

The merchant makes Rodney turn around on the spot. He obeys like a puppet, but his body shakes all over every time the man puts a hand on him.

I keep my face blank. The anger which is deep-seated inside me is invisible, hidden under a mask of indifference. I've had plenty of practice in the army. Learning to hide your thoughts, whether fear or pain, can be very useful but McKay doesn't know how to lie. He says so himself – he's a terrible bluffer. His face reflects his thoughts too clearly. At the moment I can see his distress – it's so strong, so obvious that it's hard for me to hold back from calling him by his first name, just to reassure him.

It's so hard for me to keep up my disguise.

**Flashback**

_Radek is sitting on his bed. He has dark circles under his eyes and drawn features. He is going to be held in Carson's infirmary for a dozen or so days yet, but he seems to be recovering._

_He's alive after all._

_All the members of the team that were sent to Glador are dead. Five men, one woman: four marines and two scientists._

_Radek is tired, but he carries on speaking._

"…_They arrived so suddenly, out of nowhere! The gate did not activate… I think… I believe that they must have ship somewhere. I do not understand how they were able to escape. We registered no energy signal apart from a signal from out-post. I do not understand…"_

_I interrupt him before he can get too deep into his self-recriminations._

"_Radek, there was nothing you could have don, Ok? You were outnumbered and they were better prepared than you. They were obviously used to this kind of raid. There was really nothing you could have done and, anyway, you know MacKay, as soon as he spotted the energy reading, he couldn't have left without knowing where it was coming from." _

_I see him tremble at the mention of Rodney's name. Crap! Well done John. _

_He carries on before I have a chance to add anything helpful._

"_They lined the four of us up against wall. Paula was terrorized and she could not stop crying, so Rodney…" He lets a little moan fall from his lips. "Rodney tried to comfort her. Rodney! Offering comfort! Shocking, no?"_

_No, not really._

_McKay has a brusque manner on the outside… Ok, sometimes he's just awful, but he hates to see anyone suffer, or to cause suffering himself. Except for Kavanaugh maybe. Strange how, even though they have worked together for two years, Zelenka has never seen through to the real McKay._

"_They killed her first. Her tears must have made them nervous."_

_Or they weren't looking for fabulous south-Africans to take home with them. Paula Jonston was from Johannesburg. Sanchez, the other scientist whose body is now lying in the morgue next to Paula's, was from Guatemala. None of them fit the criteria so generously spelled out to me by Cowen, but McKay and Radek did: white skin, blue eyes. Thank god Carson wasn't with them that day! He had gone back to Atlantis with one of the Galdorians, a boy with a heart murmur, if he hadn't, then Atlantis would be down another blue-eyed male._

"_What he did was…"_

"_Stupid?"_

_Radek looks shocked that I could say such a thing, but that's what I think._

" _No, božínku (AN)! It was… it was so courageous__!"_

_Oh yes, whacking a guard over the head with a laptop and running wasn't the most intelligent thing to do, especially since the results weren't great._

"_But one of them shot you, Radek."_

_He nods._

"_Only because I was not fast enough. We had reached the front door and I worked on locking on the mechanism while Rodney worked on the communications link. It is my fault… I…I was not fast enough, they suddenly appear in the corridor and I get up to warn Rodney… and then…" He shivers._

_And then he began to lose blood. I remember the state he was in when we brought him back to Atlantis._

"_You are going to get him back, yes?"_

_You can see the guilt in his eyes, the shame of failure and the terrible outcome, the vicious circle of 'if' I had had this and 'if' that hadn't happened… And I know that at that moment, we are both looking exactly the same._

"_Yes, I'm going to bring him home, but to do that I need some … help."_

_His eyes light up at the thought that he can help, that he has a chance at redemption. _

"_How?"_

"_I need to hack the Deadalus's on-board computer."_

_This time his eyes widen in astonishment. I shrug._

"_It's just to correct a couple of things on the lists of explosives…"_

**TBC**

AN – 'My God' in Czech.


	4. Chapter 4

_I so do love all the feedback I have received, thank you !_

**oOo**

"So, are you taking him ?" said the merchant.

The guy is visibly itching to touch his com. It's probably so he can go and buy himself another of those hideous rings.

"Here, touch him, touch him. He has really soft skin… really, he's…"

I haven't heard what I just heard and I can't see him caressing my best friend's thigh. It's just a nightmare brought about by the abuse of that Moonshine, the god-awful alcohol concocted by the Athosians and smuggled onto Atlantis by Lorne. I'm going to wake up and McKay will tell me that I look awful and that my hair looks even wilder then usual. I'm going to wake up… I'm going to wake up… my hand is trembling as it skims over the nude chest. His skin really is soft, but mostly it's cold, very cold.

The man continues to detail all the plus points of my future property.

"He has never served," comes first (OhMyGod!) followed by "He will give you immense satisfaction," all with a look that clearly says what he would do in my place. I stop listening to be able to concentrate totally on Rodney. His body is shaking almost constantly. His eyes flutter for a moment and then they close, but after a stern order from the merchant, which contrasts strangely with the sweet tone he is using with me, he opens them again. They are obviously his main selling point: blue eyes.

It's time to put an end to this nightmare.

The words I hear myself say resonate weirdly.

"I'll take him."

**Flasback**

"_Ladon Radim will be your… how can I put this? Your guide," announce Cowen._

"_Commander, Major," says Radim, a smug smile on his face._

_Oh look, another person pretending to not know that I'm a Lieutenant Colonel now! And here I was so proud of my promotion. I nod to him. "My men have confirmed the delivery of the C4 to you."_

_Thanks to Radek… Let's hope that Hermiod, the little guy who walks naked around the corridors of the Daedalus, doesn't notice. _

_Cowen and Ladon are watching me. Oh yes, of course, they're waiting for their daily game of 'Humiliate the Sheppard'. No problem. My friends are worth more than my dignity. So I smile and give them that they want. _

"_Thank you, Commander."_

**End of the flasback.**

Ladon deals with the price. I can't take my eyes off of Rodney. It looks as though he's going to topple over at any moment. That thought makes me smile. Okay, perhaps he won't topple over… just _faint_. Saying that he's as white as a sheet works well and the fact that he seems a bit… well 'off' – like he's cut off from all that's going on around him – worries me, but that's not the most important thing at the moment. The more important thing is to get him back to the safety of Atlantis, to join the other blue-eyed wonders of our expedition in the infirmary.

"Master?"

I turn to Ladon. He said that like he meant it, only in the tone, though as a shaft of amusement lights up his eyes. I gesture vaguely with my hand and then go back up the steps.

It's the hardest thing I've done since Galdor. Going down on my knees to the Genii was a cake-walk compared to this: leaving Mckay behind.

Ladon was clear from the outset: we choose the merchandise, we pay it (we can avoid the bidding if we just offer the asking price and the diamonds will be enough to convince the merchant), but you don't take the merchandise with you, no: it's delivered.

I sweep past Teyla and Ronon without looking at them and I leave the marquee. It's dark outside but I continue to stride away without really knowing where I'm going. If I stop now, I know I won't be able to control my anger.

**Flasback**

_My radio crackles. "Sheppard."_

_/It is done./_

_The heavy accent leaves me in no doubt whose voice this is._

"_Great… thanks."_

_The silence bothers me, but then… _

_/Colonel, bring him home… Atlantis is not…It is not the same without him …/_

_I grin and he adds, just before signing off._

_/ … and if I am interrogated, I will deny that I ever said such a thing!/_

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks once again to those who have reviewed , I greatly appreciate it._

**oOo**

I didn't come back last night. I knew that neither Teyla not Ronon would look for me. They know me well enough now to know when I need the strength of a friend and when I need to be alone. This thought gives me the courage to face the rest of the day.

I only walked around for a few hours, around the vast intergalactic market. It's a bit like a Moroccan bazaar, only bigger and it sells completely different stuff.

I go inside one of the tents that we have bought for this occasion. Yep, definitely Morocco: carpets with red and ochre themes on the ground, sculpted wood furniture and golden dishes by the walls.

And right in the middle, attached to the post that is holding the tent up, is my purchase from yesterday.

I stop in the entrance of the tent, unable to move or to speak. I feel the little ball of rage, which I was fighting so hard yesterday, reform in the pit of my stomach. I take a deep breath. _Just concentrate on the mission_ – anger can come later – the most important thing is Rodney. I move carefully towards him and kneel by his side.

He's dressed this time… well, _nearly_. They've kitted him out in a sort of Roman style tunic, draped in a complicated way that looks a bit like a toga. It's attached on one of his shoulders by a big gold clip, with a blue stone, and then it tumbles around his body in a way that allows you to see, but without giving anything away. Just an appetizer. A nicely wrapped gift. He's also wearing a collar, a real one this time, decked out in the same blue stones and some sandals with gold colored laces. His skin is glowing weirdly, probably oiled. I breathe in. Perfumed oil – cinnamon or something like it. He has make-up on his eyes and mouth. It makes him look like a drag queen.

I call him gently. No reaction. I put my hand on his shoulder.

This time, he cries out and tries to get up. Of course he only gets caught up in the tunic and falls down with a dull thud and another shout. He still hasn't said a single word, just these weird squeals, like a frightened animal.

I grind my teeth. The ball in my stomach catches my attention again, so I close my eyes – _concentrate_!

I hold my hands out towards Rodney, but as soon as I touch him, he cries out – half squeal, half moan – and tries to get away from me. He gesticulates, arms and legs strangely uncoordinated, as though his coordination is shot. He knocks over one of the large vases that were placed as decoration and he breaks it. He continues to try to get some distance between himself and me, half crawling and half walking. He cuts his hand on bits of vase. The chain that is tying him to the post is blocking his escape, but his panic only increases.

I end up shouting. "RODNEY! Stop!"

His hand is bloody and he pulls desperately at the ring that is keeping him chained, like an animal in a cage or one of those bear-trap things. He pulls, scratches, tears, all without noticing the harm he's doing to himself, his ankle is now also covered in blood.

"Rodney! For god's sake, stop it!"

But it's pointless, he's panicking. And then, I understand what has happened. Those pieces of crap have told him what's awaiting him. I can just see the face of the merchant, deformed by a grimace of desire, describing all the things that will happen, all that his new owner will want of him, will do to him. I imagine that as soon as I put my hands on him, he thought…

I stand up and take the only possible solution: I call for help.

"TEYLA!"

**Flashback**

_Elizabeth agreed in the end. The case of C4 is waiting to be delivered to Cowen. We have hidden them among the other little things we are going to need._

"_Decorum, Major, decorum. For these people, appearances are everything. You must look rich." Ladon told me, while he fills a load of dishes with loud colors into one of the cases._

_So we leave with six cases of crap. Well, five. The last one has the C4._

_The exchange with Cowen has gone well. Lorne was great. Funny, to start with I thought that he was an advocate for Caldwell, but since then… well, let's just say that working in Pegasus changes the way you see things. People change. Maybe it's all to do with the sacrosanct rule 'We NEVER leave anyone behind'. We'll do anything to get one of our own back._

_I like Lorne._

"_Right, we're ready." Radim rubs his hands together and smiles. That amuses him a lot._

_I wonder if I should get me a second silver bullet. _

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

_This is the 6th and final chapter! Thanks to all of you here for your encouragement. Fenchurch1 and I, we've got another story (50 pages, post Trinity (yeah, I know, it's sooooo original, LOL)) and we are in need of a beta, any taker ?_

**oOo**

"Colonel, what…?"

Teyla springs into the tent, armed to the teeth and froze as she recognized the shape on the floor, hugging the material wall, trying to blend in with it. She hurries and chucks her P-90 into my hands, before throwing herself before Rodney.

She starts speaking softly, as though talking to a child. I see her place her hand on top of Rodney's and I wait for that awful squeal, but Rodney says nothing, his body is wracked with trembling, but he accepts Teyla's touch. Without turning round, Teyla calls out.

"Colonel, I think you need to leave us."

She caresses his hair, her voice sounds melodic, like a kind of lullaby or something similar, and Rodney relaxes. I nod, even though she can't see me, and I leave.

Once I'm outside, I sprint, bumping into Ronon, and I arrive under a little palm tree, I fall down on the ground and I let loose a long cry. It's strange, but it doesn't sound anything like the cries from Rodney, between anger and distress.

I try to understand what is happening, why I'm reacting like this, why all that has happened to Rodney has touched me this way. I have lost teammates before but I've never been through anything that has hit me like this before.

Perhaps it's Pegasus, the Wraith, the Genii… it's all barbaric, violent, inhuman. Perhaps I'm just cracking under the pressure … Perhaps Colonel Sumner was right after all… I should never have come here.

Or perhaps it's something else, something I'm feeling for the first time. Something that leaves me terrified.

When I get back to the camp, Lorne and his men stare at me as though I'm a madman, I just ignore them and go back to the tent. Ronon is outside, guarding it. He looks like a Tuareg, proud, sword tucked into his sash, face framed by several layers of material. He stares hard all around. I reckon that not even a mosquito would have a chance of getting past him. He nods slightly as I go past him into the tent.

I listen to Teyla's voice as she sings softly. Rodney is by her side, on the huge bed of cushions that we had installed in the corner of the tent. Teyla has covered him with a sheet and he is lying down in a fetal position. He holds Teyla's graceful hands to his chest like a lifeline. His eyes flutter, but as soon as they close, they ping right open again. In my head, I curse the merchant for creating this reflex, making Rodney keep his eyes open to seduce the customer. God knows what the price of his disobedience was, because I _know_ he disobeyed. At least to begin with.

Near the bed, there is a jug of water. I point it out to Teyla. She nods her head sadly. He has refused to drink, thinking that it must be drugged. I sigh.

I watch Teyla. She is lying back on the bed as well and she is gently rocking Rodney in her arms. She lowers her head and drops a kiss in his hair and Rodney's trembling calms immediately. I smile. Teyla would make an excellent mother, but in the mean time I am happy to have her in my team and…

… and suddenly I realize the truth. It's like a blinding flash, a deafening noise.

A shock.

Ronon is the protector, Teyla the mother hen and me the avenging father but who makes us behave in that way? We are all three of us, warriors. Merciless. I have killed and I have seen Teyla and Ronon do the same. Wraith, humans… so what gives us back our humanity?

The reply is both obvious and surprising. Rodney. Strange huh? Without him, Teyla, Ronon and I would be nothing more than an ordinary SGA team. Armed, ready for anything, always in 'GI Joe' mode. I realize that with him in the team, I am different… we are different.

Force, heart, spirit. The protector, the warrior, the leader. But what would any of us be without a soul? What would we be without breath, light and space? What would we be without Rodney?

General O'Neill was right when he told me, a little before we left, to 'take good care of him'. I didn't understand what he was saying, or why he was saying it to me. McKay seemed to be a total idiot with a super-sized ego, but O'Neill knew what he was talking about. He had Dr Jackson. I took McKay into my team to do just that, keep an eye on him. And at the end of the day his presence saved me. From myself, from my impulses. And it's the same for the others, even though I doubt that Ronon recognizes it.

I crouch by his bed.

"Hey Rodney."

I murmur, trying to make my tone a little less _masculine_. Not terrible, but Rodney doesn't cry out and he doesn't try to escape, and that's the main thing. He blinks, then stares at me. He's not totally with us again, but his eyes have lost that veiled look and his pupils are reacting again. I smile at him and he responds with something that looks more like a grimace than a smile.

"Welcome back, Rodney, welcome home."

And I cry. I cry because I have found more than my teammate, more than my friend: I have found my soul.

I have found _our_ soul.

**Fin ! **


End file.
